


stories of sleep deprivation

by annagarny



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-29
Updated: 2012-06-29
Packaged: 2017-11-08 19:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/446665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annagarny/pseuds/annagarny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tales of the many, many times that the boys (and the rest) have been kept awake for extended periods.</p><p>(Canon compliant season 1 only).</p>
            </blockquote>





	stories of sleep deprivation

Mike’s not drunk the next time he ends up at Harvey’s place.  
He’s not there to confess anything potentially life-changing, either.  
No, he’s being taken in there by the man himself, barely able to keep his eyes open as Harvey drags him along the hallway from the front door and into the kitchen, past the breakfast bar and drops him on the couch.  
Ray had offered to help get him up there, but Harvey already felt bad enough having him out and driving around the city so late at night; just because Harvey’s entire life revolved around work didn’t mean everyone else’s did. Once he had his arm firmly around Mike’s shoulders, his other hand pressing into his sternum to keep the blonde associate upright, he sent Ray home.  
Admittedly, it was a struggle to get Mike into the elevator, the kid seemed to be falling asleep every couple of steps, but once they were in the elevator Harvey just leaned against the wall, propping Mike up as they ascended.  
He was glad that the path from door to couch was unimpeded, though, and that Mike’s a whippet. If he weighed more than 130lbs soaking wet then even the toned and trim Harvey Specter might not have managed to get him safely installed on the butter-soft leather for the night.

Mike woke up at around half past three and panicked immediately. The last thing that he remembered was Harvey stalking into the file room at eleven PM, shouting at Louis over the fact that Mike hadn’t left the building in just over sixty-five hours.  
It was like watching a particularly well-dressed nuclear warhead detonating, and Mike’s only coherent thought was relief that, for once, Harvey’s ire wasn’t directed at him.  
“I am within my rights to ask any associate to assist me in any way I view necessary.” Louis was smug, smiling in that hamsterish way that made Mike’s skin crawl, but Harvey wasn’t having any of it.  
“Three days, Louis. He’s been here since Wednesday. God dammit, I go on one trip, one little trip to Los Angeles for a client and this is what you do to Mike?”  
“I had a lot of work that needed to be done.”  
“It’s almost midnight on a Friday and the kid is in the same suit he had on two days ago. He’s leaving, now.”  
“Uh, no, he’s still got-”  
“Shut. Up. Louis. Get the hell out of here before I tell Jessica that you’ve had him here for three days straight doing work that should have been assigned to five men, minimum!”  
He’d then caught Mike by the elbow and hauled him out of the chair, pausing to snag Mike’s suit jacket and his messenger bag, both of which had been hanging over the back of the chair that Harvey had found the kid slumped in, and he pushed past Louis to get out the door.  
“Three days, you idiot.” Harvey muttered as he shoved Mike into the elevator and hit the button that would take them to street level, tugging on each of Mike’s arms to get the kid into his jacket then dropped his bag onto one shoulder, willing as he might be to rescue Mike from Louis’ evil clutches, he was not willing to carry that tatty messenger bag in public.  
“Why the hell didn’t you tell someone? Donna would have bailed you out in a second!”  
“Not allowed to leave the law library, Harvey - he’ll fire me.”  
“You are allowed to leave the law library and if you let Louis goddamn-Litt do this to you again I am going to shoot him.”  
So Harvey was feeling a little protective, but when he’d landed at LaGuardia and Donna had said no, she hadn’t seen Mike in a couple of days, wasn’t he working for Louis while Harvey was in LA? He’d decided to skip the condo, coming straight into the office to track down his associate.  
Discovering Mike in the same suit he had been wearing when Harvey had left on Wednesday morning, hunched over a pile of paperwork for Louis that really should have been assigned to a group of associates and honestly could wait at least another week before it became critical had made him see red. Just a little.  
One all-nighter a week was ok, as long as the kid was allowed to, you know, shower and change his clothes, but two in a row and being forced to keep the same clothes on for so long?  
Not cool.  
Rachel had noticed him, and tried to sneak him away, had even approached Donna to see if the Queen of the P.A.’s had some way for Rachel to get into Mike’s place and maybe get him a change of clothes, but not even Donna had a key to Mike’s place. She had, however, handed over the spare boxers and shirt from Harvey’s stash, so at least the kid had something clean on under the rumpled suit.  
Harvey noticed that, at least.  
“How did you get my spare shirt?” He asked as the elevator doors dinged open at ground level and Mike seemed to start awake for a moment, shuffling along beside Harvey, leaning on him a little as if he was injured.  
“Donna.”  
“Please tell me that you’re not wearing my underwear, too?” Harvey almost pleaded, because, really, that would just be beyond the pale.  
“Too big.”  
“What?”  
“Your boxers were too big, they bunched up and stuck out of my pants.”  
“But-” Harvey leaned back just a little and ran his eyes down Mike’s back half, noticing that there was no bunching around his waistband. “-please do not tell me that you are commando in that suit, with my spare shirt tucked into your waistband?”  
“Fine, I won’t…” Mike paused to yawn wide enough that his jaw cracked. “I won’t tell you that.”  
Harvey groaned at that but kept walking, Mike leaning on him and eventually slinging an arm around the kid’s shoulders as they approached the street, nodding at Ray when they got to the car and making a mental note to give the guy a bonus for putting up with so much crap.

On Saturday morning, having been deposited on Harvey’s couch just before midnight, Mike woke up in a cold sweat at half past three, passages and highlighted sections of the briefs he had been reading over for Louis swimming before his eyes until he managed to get a grip.  
It took almost two minutes, but eventually his vision cleared and he recognised where he was, and even then it was only after a long inhale to steady his nerves and recognizing Harvey’s cologne on the cushion under his head that he was able to put the pieces together.  
Not remembering something was an unusual and scary experience for Mike Ross, even when he was drunk, high or both he had excellent recall, but apparently sleep deprivation was a sure-fire way to shut his brain down.  
Once he had a handle on where he was, he decided to examine the state in which he’d arrived there – looking down he found that he had been covered with a black blanket, but lifting it up revealed the shirt of Harvey’s that Donna had loaned him on his second afternoon in the office, the same pants he’d had on since Wednesday and his socks – the rest of his suit was missing, including his tie, and how he’d actually got to Harvey’s couch was somewhat a mystery. Though he did, apparently, have Harvey to thank for rescuing him from the Everest of paperwork that Louis had used (in Harvey’s absence) to try and kill him.  
He stretched, yawned, reached down to unfasten the button and zipper of his pants then decided that the couch was actually pretty comfortable, rolled over so that his face was pressed against the back of it, and went back to sleep.


End file.
